


how to get away with murder

by yanjunslut



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, M/M, Moral Ambiguity, Murder, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:48:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24628090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yanjunslut/pseuds/yanjunslut
Summary: kim doyoung is tasked with solving a high profile murder casethe suspect in question? jung jaehyun- who doyoung has had his eye on for quite some timeas the investigation deepens, past and ongoing murders come to light and the line between the investigation team and case suspects disappears altogether
Relationships: Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Qian Kun, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung, Kim Jungwoo/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Moon Taeil, Lee Taeyong/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Mark Lee/Nakamoto Yuta
Comments: 20
Kudos: 110





	1. enter: prime suspect

_Five, four, three-_

No?

The clacking heels pause, replaced by the rustle of papers. After five seconds, they resume, just by his cell.

_Two, one._

The door swings open, a security guard standing in the doorway with his arm braced against it. He winks at Jaehyun, in that way he always does. Jun-something, Jaehyun remembers. Whatever his name is, Jaehyun never knows if the guy is truly making a pass at him or just trying to freak him out. Jaehyun wouldn’t be surprised in the least if it is the former- even in this jumpsuit he knows he looks good. 

Honestly, the jumpsuit kind of emphasises his waist-line, which Jaehyun feels semi-inclined to thank the department for, and while he _is_ upset about missing his hair products, a few seconds spent scrutinising his reflection in his spoon at breakfast this morning gave Jaehyun the confidence to believe that Slicked Back Prison Hair is something he can, in fact, pull off decently.

It’s been a rattling three days. Jaehyun’s cell is under tight surveillance. That’s what happens when you’re the prime suspect in a high profile murder case- the death of a powerful senator, to be precise. And Jaehyun isn’t too mad about being in here, either. The food sucks, but not as badly as he’d expected. And truthfully, he’d needed a break from the world.

Lately, shit has finally started to catch up to Jaehyun. He doesn’t like it one bit.

It’s when a second person enters the room that Jaehyun perks up with interest, and it’s directed at the newcomer, not Jun-something, to the guard’s annoyance.

‘I’ll take it from here,’ the man says. His voice is much higher than Jaehyun’s own, and somehow looks exactly how he _should_ sound. He closes the door himself, and then crosses the room to sit opposite Jaehyun, posture rigid as he sets a briefcase at his feet.

He looks as though he has a stick up his ass, Jaehyun decides. He snickers.

The man stares at him flatly, adjusting the silver-rimmed glasses perched neatly on his nose.

Jaehyun grins.

‘Mr. Jung,’ the man addresses him with a non-descript tone. ‘My name is Kim Doyoung. I’m with the National Intelligence Service.’

Doyoung. Jaehyun plays the name over in his mind. _Doyoung, Doyoung, Doyoung_. He likes it. There’s a softness to it, one that suits him immensely. Well, that’s what Jaehyun decides anyway. Based off of these thirty-or-so seconds they’ve been in each other’s presence.

The suit Doyoung wears isn’t expensive by any means. It’s navy blue and pinstriped, and his white shirt is buttoned all the way up, Jaehyun notes with disappointment. His black hair is neatly cut and mostly pushed off his forehead, but there’s a stray strand falling into his eyes, and despite the unholy hour of 8:30 in the morning Jaehyun is sure that Doyoung is already suffering from a mountain of stress.

For the fourth time since entering the room, Doyoung pushes his lenses back up his nose, his large dark eyes blinking behind them.

‘Take them off,’ Jaehyun nods at the glasses. He smirks. ‘You have pretty eyes.’

Doyoung’s mouth twitches- with amusement or annoyance, Jaehyun can’t tell. ‘I’m here to get you out,’ he says, ignoring Jaehyun’s goading comments. ‘I- my team and I- would like your help in solving the murder of Senator Nam.’

Now that. That does surprise Jaehyun.

‘I’m your primary suspect, and you want me… to help you?’ 

‘You don’t have the level of sophistication to have committed this crime.’

‘I’m offended.’

‘Don’t be.’ Doyoung smiles icily. Jaehyun hates that it’s kind of hot. He holds up his phone, clicking play on the screen. The footage starts: a dimly lit, grainy video, outside a 7-Eleven. A man with broad shoulders under a plain black t-shirt and a white cap pulled low, lifting a bottle of iced tea to his lips. Jaehyun recognises the brand by the blue label. ‘This is the video evidence we recovered that provides you with an alibi for the night of the murder. It doesn’t completely absolve you of all association to the crime, but sign that form and you’ll make bail.’

If there’s one thing Jaehyun knows, it’s that he does _not_ drink that brand of iced tea. And really? The black shirt? Was he _that_ predictable?

Embarrassing.

‘Your shoulders are much broader than mine, you know.’ Jaehyun decides to take the flirtatious route once more, relishing the discomfort of the other man. ‘But I guess no one studied the clip that closely, huh?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Doyoung says. It’s an order to shut the fuck up, but Jaehyun is nothing if not pushy.

‘How did you stomach drinking that shit? Because I couldn’t keep that down-‘

‘Mr. Jung. If I may.’

Jaehyun throws his hands up in surrender.

‘You’ve been on our radar for some time,’ Doyoung continues, bending over to ruffle through his briefcase. He sits upright and places a piece of paper on the desk. ‘Don’t think we view as some sort of scapegoat for the cause. You’re not innocent. But you are of use to me-‘

Jaehyun sits up.

‘And my _team_ , so talk of your… _extracurricular activities_ will be kept at bay for now.’

‘Are you interested in them?’ Jaehyun asks, smiling. ‘My extracurriculars, I mean. It’s plenty of fun, when done well. I can be very creative.’

‘Like I said, we’ll discuss the hit-man business _after_ we’re done with this situation.’

‘A hit man?’ Jaehyun repeats lazily, tone lilting. ‘Is that how your team refers to me?’

‘If you were smart, you wouldn’t recklessly implicate yourself further.’

‘Or maybe I’ll do whatever I can to spend as much time with you as I can.’ Jaehyun drums his fingers along the desk. Lightly, at first, but then the veins in Doyoung’s neck begin to stick out and he can’t help but do so more forcefully.

‘Will you stop that?’ Doyoung snaps. He pushes the paper toward Jaehyun, then rolls a pen along the desk.

Jaehyun picks it up. ‘I could put this right through your eye.’

It’s as if he can see the hairs on Doyoung’s neck stand on end from where he sits. Doyoung’s pupils dilate, his nose twitches involuntarily; he resembles a rabbit trembling before a predator, Jaehyun muses.

Cute.

Doyoung’s Adam’s apple bobs, and then his jaw tightens, resolve crossing his face. He reaches for the knot of his tie and fiddles with it. ‘You won’t.’

‘You don’t sound convinced. I have to ask, why didn’t you request for me to be restrained before coming in here? Everyone else has.’

‘Do you want out of here or not, Mr. Jung?’ Doyoung isn’t fucking around now, it seems. A shame really, because Jaehyun had _so_ much more in him, but he supposes there’ll be more time in the future, if…

‘I’ll come.’

The words leave his mouth with planned sincerity, an ounce of eagerness. Only a little. Jaehyun can’t afford to sound _too_ happy, given the circumstances and all.

There’s a flash of something in Doyoung’s eyes- the closest thing to happiness he seems capable of, Jaehyun imagines- before he clears his throat. He watches as Jaehyun signs the form, expression unreadable.

He meets Jaehyun’s gaze when Jaehyun pushes the paper back, holding his hand out for the pen.

Jaehyun reaches out to return the pen, then envelops Doyoung’s hand completely in his own, gripping it firmly. He feels Doyoung’s hand shudder for a brief moment, hears his breath hitch.

Then he releases him, easy grin returning. ‘See? Nothing to worry about. Perhaps I’m not the killer you think I am.’

‘I know you are a killer, Mr. Jung,’ Doyoung enunciates clearly, eyes sharp and focused. ‘I just don’t think you killed Nam Sungjin.’


	2. sunflower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jaehyun finds himself in an unexpectedly familiar place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> smut this chapter so be mindful of the rating x

Doyoung’s home is expensive.

This is the first thing Jaehyun notices about it- the marble table tops, the paintings hung over white walls- and then, that it is meticulously cleaned, with its furniture and décor arranged with such precision that Jaehyun suspects is an outward model of the neatly wired inner workings of Doyoung’s mind.

_‘A detective’s salary wouldn’t typically afford such a place,’ Jaehyun had commented upon his arrival._

_‘It’s rude to discuss salaries,’ Doyoung said evasively._

_‘That is a lie perpetuated by capitalism,’ Jaehyun tried, to no avail. Doyoung did not give answers unless he wanted to._

_‘Aren’t you a little worried about hosting an alleged hit-man?’_

_For the first time since they’d met, Doyoung had smiled. ‘I’ll manage.’_

Doyoung lives in an apartment, top floor, tenth story. Right now, Jaehyun is standing on the balcony connected to Doyoung’s bedroom, looking over the city. It’s late, close to ten p.m., and Seoul is lit up under the night sky. There’s a single, huge plant in a large black pot on the ground, its vibrant green leaves rustling in the evening breeze. With two upturned leaves and one long, thinner one, the plant reminds Jaehyun of an elephant.

Jaehyun suspects that Doyoung doesn’t have the imagination to name it, so he decides to refer to it as Eleafphant in secret.

He giggles.

‘What are you laughing about?’

He turns to find Doyoung exiting the bathroom, a fluffy white towel slung low on his hips and using a small hand towel to dry his hair. Doyoung’s expression is unreadable.

Before Jaehyun can answer, a loud bang sounds from the kitchen, followed by a shriek, and ‘ _Sicheng, how many times have I told you not to interfere?’_

‘We have to go out, so get something from my closet. I’ll be right back,’ Doyoung excuses himself and races out of the room.

Jaehyun closes the balcony door and heads over to Doyoung’s walk-in wardrobe. As with the rest of the place, everything is arranged to perfection: the clothes are hung and folded according to colour, the shoes lain out with such care that Jaehyun believes if he were to take a ruler to measure, the space between the shoes would be the same per pair.

He peruses the shirts and blazers first. Mostly neutrals, and a few flannels in muted shades. A lot of navy. There is quite the selection of blazers and slacks, none of it particularly expensive and certainly not anything that Jaehyun feels particularly inclined to wear.

‘God, Doyoung, this is just sad.’

‘Isn’t it?’

Sicheng stands in the doorway, shaking his head with disappointment. Sicheng happened to be one of Doyoung’s roommates, very tall and very pretty, with black hair curling over pointed elfin ears. His boyfriend, their other roommate Kun, seemed to half babysit an accident-prone Sicheng. Between Kun’s warm smile and Sicheng’s constant giggling, Jaehyun was quite thankful for the welcome party Doyoung hadn’t been interested in giving.

‘I can’t wear this. Hell, Doyoung shouldn’t wear this. I want to take him shopping this minute.’

‘You should,’ Sicheng says amusedly. ‘Until then, how about you borrow something of mine?’

*

When Jaehyun walks into the kitchen, shit-eating grin and all, he can feel the intensity of Doyoung’s gaze from where the detective sits on a stool behind the kitchen island.

Kun whistles. ‘Look at you! Now I know that’s from Sicheng’s wardrobe because Doyoung cannot dress to save his life.’

‘Hey!’

‘I love you.’

Doyoung catches the heart Kun blows to him and slams it on the counter. He gets to his feet, adjusting his tie tighter round his neck as his phone begins to buzz. ‘There’s a car on its way. Let’s go.’

‘Do I need to bring anything?’

Doyoung’s eyes rove over the low-cut, red silk shirt tucked into black pants and back up to Jaehyun’s now-washed black hair, pushed back off his forehead. ‘A scarf’, he says tartly, rolling his eyes at the somewhat provocative clothing.

‘Don’t mind him,’ Kun laughs, slinging a tea towel over his shoulder as he lifts a pot of steaming noodles to drain over the sink, likely the pot Sicheng dropped earlier. ‘We’ll save some leftovers for you!’

‘We’ll be f-’

‘That would be lovely, Kun,’ Jaehyun dimples charmingly, and Sicheng squeals with delight, clapping as he praises Jaehyun’s good looks. ‘Later, then.’

*

The car ride is about twenty minutes into the heart of Gangnam. Jaehyun has no idea whose car they’re riding in, but it’s a sleek black Mercedes with a chauffeur, and Doyoung has been on the phone the entire trip, sparing only a pointed glare and a finger to his lips to keep Jaehyun quiet.

They pull to a stop in a bus, overcrowded street milling with young girls in miniskirts and fur coats, clinging to the arms of young men as they spill in and out of clubs.

‘We’re here to club?’ Jaehyun asks with surprise, opting to follow Doyoung out rather than stepping into the busy street. Jaehyun adores clubbing. He wouldn’t be surprised if he spends at least 50% of his sizeable cheque- from an employer who remains anonymous and also the owner of Jaehyun’s heart, god bless them- on anything from booze to hard drugs in the most private establishments in Seoul.

‘I thought I mentioned the plan in the elevator. We’re here to interview people involved with a previous case that may be connected to the senator’s murder.’

Jaehyun considers that perhaps Doyoung did, but Jaehyun was too busy checking him out to pay attention. Oh well.

Doyoung looks at him with admonishment. ‘You chose to dress like a whore without even considering the location? What if we were entering a respectable establishment?’

‘Your opinion is the only one relevant in my eyes,’ Jaehyun grins shamelessly.

‘I cannot stand you.’

*

At the door, the security guards wave Doyoung through with no more than a nod and an appreciative onceover directed at Jaehyun, and then they’re in.

Pulsing music and the powerful scent of alcohol and sweat hangs thickly in the air; familiar to Jaehyun, he likes to party, but the tight set of Doyoung’s shoulders tells Jaehyun that the atmosphere is overwhelming him. Jaehyun stays close, careful not to step on the detective’s heels as they cross the dancefloor and pass by a purple-lit bar.

It’s quieter here, and Doyoung lets Jaehyun move to his side before he leans over. ‘We’re just waiting for Tae- for the club owner. He’ll be with us in a moment.’

Jaehyun’s ears prick up at the misstep. ‘Why didn’t the guards ask to see your ID?’

Doyoung stares for a moment. As he opens his mouth, a young looking man with bubble-gum pink hair taps him on the shoulder.

‘Hey. Follow me.’

They follow the man past a stage of performing strippers, a particularly rowdy part of the crowd jostling Doyoung and nearly tripping him up. Jaehyun catches him easily, hands lingering on Doyoung’s waist for longer than necessary, but Doyoung doesn’t wriggle away. They continue past a set of bathrooms and closed doors until they reach the end of the hall, and the man leads them into a room strongly smelling of floral perfume.

‘Ah, thank you, Jaemin.’ A man with an undercut and dyed red hair calls cheerfully across the room, waving as Jaemin exits and closes the door behind him, effectively cutting off the music into a steady hum. Multiple piercings decorate the man’s ears, and he wears a navy suit not so different from Doyoung’s, though his shirt is unbuttoned almost to his navel. He smiles at Jaehyun. ‘My name is Moon Taeil, I’m the owner of this club. Nice to meet you.’

‘I’m Detective Kim Doyoung, and this is Jung Jaehyun. We have some questions, as you know.’

Taeil’s eyes glimmer with interest, and he leans forward in his velvet green armchair. ‘I see. Would you care to take a seat?’

Jaehyun follows Doyoung to sit in on the longer couch opposite Taeil. Surprisingly comfier than it looks, Jaehyun settles contentedly into the side. Doyoung pointedly sits at the other end, producing a pen and paper from his pocket as he starts up the inquiry.

Halfway through a series of questions Jaehyun doesn’t bother to listen to, the door swings open and a blur of yellow bursts into the room, only kicking the door shut when Taeil calls for it to be done.

A boy- no, a man- not much younger than Jaehyun but with a youthful air and a mischievous expression bounces toward Jaehyun and lowers the tray of shots in his hand to set them down on Jaehyun’s lap. His hair is a mass of orange-gold curls and his eyes are lined with black eyeshadow and gold glitter that matches the highlighter glowing all over his already golden skin. ‘Have one!’ He winks at Doyoung. ‘You look like you could use a drink. Or ten.’

Doyoung’s lips thin into a line. ‘I’m fine, thank you.’

‘Come here, Sunflower,’ Taeil sings with delight, opening up his arms for the man to leap into them and settle into Taeil’s lap. He laughs as the man throws his arms around Taeil’s neck and begins peppering kisses all over his face.

Doyoung is unimpressed.

_Sunflower, Sunflower_ , Jaehyun plays the name over in his mind as he downs two shots in a row, heedless of Doyoung’s glare. He’s been here before, Jaehyun realises as his eyes trail over the golden boy, the sequins of his incredibly tiny, tight shorts catching the dim light of the overhead fluorescents. Four months, to be precise. Jaehyun had entered through a window in the side of the club, finding himself in a dressing room.

As always, Jaehyun had a gun and a couple of knives on him; he always did, for any hit. He prefers to improvise, gloves on and leaving the weapon at the scene. He remembers taking an expensive looking, sharp, buttercup yellow heel and driving it into the man’s eye. It killed the man instantly, and Jaehyun dashed back into the closet, the squeal of ‘ _my SHOES_ ’ following him as he slipped into the alley below.

On the bottom of the heel in a scrawled cursive front had been ‘ _Sunflower_.’

Jaehyun’s breath hitches.

‘Pretty, isn’t he?’ Taeil laughs again, and his Sunflower leans into his touch, preening under the murmured compliments just for him. ‘This is Donghyuck, my boyfriend.’

Donghyuck beams. ‘I also perform here some nights. I love dancing.’

Ah, a stripper. The confirmation that the shoe did belong to Donghyuck gets Jaehyun thinking. If they are here to look into Senator Nam’s murder, a high profile man, then why is Doyoung pursuing the scuffle of a drug dealer in some shady club?

Jaehyun tips back another shot.

‘I think we’re done for the evening, Mr. Moon.’ Doyoung gets to his feet, motioning for Jaehyun to stand too. He points to the door. ‘Jaehyun, would you mind waiting outside? I’ll only be a moment.’

Donghyuck jumps up. ‘I’ll go with him!’ Taeil tugs Donghyuck back down to kiss him quickly, then leans back into his chair, watching Donghyuck pull Jaehyun to the door.

‘Don’t get into trouble, baby!’

Donghyuck blows a kiss to Taeil and closes the door behind him.

*

‘Doyoung lied,’ Jaehyun slurs a little, verging on tipsy. Donghyuck clings to him, the two somewhere between jumping and grinding in time with the music. ‘He said he’d be _quick_.’

‘It was less than five minutes,’ a clipped voice appears by Jaehyun’s ear, and Doyoung is there, and Jaehyun blinks as Doyoung’s hands rest on Jaehyun’s hips, chin on his shoulder.

Donghyuck laughs. ‘I’ll see you around,’ he says, pecking Jaehyun on the cheek and melting away into the milling bodies on the floor.

Strangely enough, Jaehyun is sure he will see the Sunflower again.

‘Let’s go,’ Doyoung says, allowing Jaehyun to lead them away. As they pass the bar, a slightly built man with striking, beautiful features steps into their path, a frown on his kittenish lips.

‘Doyoung, what the hell are you doing here?’

Jaehyun smiles eagerly. ‘I’m Jaehyun. I’m helping Doyoung with the case,’ Jaehyun almost trips up, then offers his hand to the silver-haired man, whose nose wrinkles before he takes it.

‘ _I’m_ helping him with the case. I’m Detective Lee, Detective Kim’s partner. You’re… Doyoung why is the _suspect_ here?’

‘I’ll talk to you later,’ Doyoung says with finality. He raises his eyebrows as if to challenge Taeyong. ‘We were just leaving, actually. Taeil spoke with us already, but he’s still in the back room.’

‘Seriously?’

‘Seriously.’

Taeyong sighs. ‘I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he says, already disappearing into the crowd.

Doyoung absently takes Jaehyun’s hand then, guiding him through an onslaught of drunken girls toward the exit. Jaehyun feels a buzz thrum through his body, likely a combination of the unlikely physical contact and the three shots he snuck in earlier.

By the time the two are down the club stairs and on the curb waiting for their car, Doyoung realises what he’s been doing and drops Jaehyun’s hand as if he’s been burned.

*

‘This is really good,’ Jaehyun says around a mouthful of noodles. ‘Kun is a culinary genius.’

The two are perched on the stools at the island in Doyoung’s kitchen, eating Kun’s promised leftovers and drinking green tea, which Doyoung insisted as a detox for the alcohol Jaehyun ingested.

‘But I have to ask…’

‘What?’

‘Why was Taeyong so shocked- and annoyed, which was rather rude, I might add- to see me with you tonight?’

Doyoung pauses slurping up his noodles.

Jaehyun waits a beat, and then, ‘I’m not meant to be here, am I?’

‘Look, it’s… not exactly.’ Doyoung places the bowl down on the counter top. ‘I didn’t need to keep you with me, after bail. But I… you didn’t have anyone else to get you out, and you were happy to stay with me… which is weird, you know.’

Jaehyun shrugs. ‘You interest me.’

‘It’s unconventional,’ Doyoung continues as his cheeks heat up under Jaehyun’s watch, ‘and if our department was actually any good there would’ve been an issue. As it stands, Taeyong is the only one who knows where you are, and he doesn’t care. And you have an alibi for this murder.’

‘At our meeting this morning you called me a hit-man. That suggests that I’m under the eye of the police… why would they let me leave?’

Doyoung smiles. ‘I only said I knew, not that anyone else does.’

‘I see.’ Jaehyun stretches, then gets off his stool to put his bowl in the sink. ‘Where are Kun and Sicheng, anyway? It’s only midnight.’

Doyoung scowls. ‘They tend to sleep early… tend to tire themselves out fucking. Whether I’m home or not.’

Jaehyun snorts. ‘I bet Sicheng is really, _really_ loud.’

‘Don’t _say_ that!’

*

They don’t even make it in the door before they’re all over each other. One minute, walking down the hall to Doyoung’s room and the next, Doyoung pushing Jaehyun up against the wall, hands in each other’s hair, slipping under clothes, and then Doyoung kicks his bedroom door open, shoving Jaehyun inside and slamming it shut before falling onto the bed.

‘Doyoung, Doyoung,’ Jaehyun mumbles through kisses, until Doyoung drops down to his neck to nip along the skin. ‘Are you sure of this? Are you-’

‘Yes, I’m sure, I’m fucking sure,’ Doyoung pulls away long enough to insist, his tone irritating in usual Doyoung fashion. His pupils are wide and blown, and he presses his palms to Jaehyun’s chest and straddles him. He leans down, lips brushing the shell of Jaehyun’s ear to whisper, ‘ _I want you to fuck me.’_

Jaehyun grins, bounces Doyoung up and flips them around to hover over him. ‘ _Yes, sir.’_

They make quick work of shedding their clothes, Jaehyun smoothly lifting Doyoung’s shirt over his head while Doyoung kicks off his own pants, then proceeds to almost tear Sicheng’s shirt from Jaehyun’s chest, only slowing down when Jaehyun reminds him that Sicheng will scream bloody murder if anything happens to it.

Jaehyun works his way down Doyoung’s torso, pressing open-mouthed kisses along Doyoung’s soft skin. He pushes Doyoung into the mattress, continuing down to the softness between his thighs. A low whine escapes Doyoung as Jaehyun palms his length, his back arches and his thighs begin to tremble.

Jaehyun smirks. ‘Someone’s sensitive.’ He dodges Doyoung’s swipe with a chuckle, pinning Doyoung’s hand by his head against the pillow. ‘How long has it been?’

‘Do we really need to get into this right now?’

Jaehyun pulls his hands away, sitting up. ‘I asked you a question, detective. You can answer at least one.’

Doyoung rolls his eyes. ‘Come _on_. Get back here.’

‘Not until you answer me.’

Doyoung mumbles something under his breath.

‘What was that?’

‘A year.’

_‘What?’_

Doyoung blushes furiously, twisting away to face the open window instead, moonlight casting a silver glow over his skin. He sighs when Jaehyun cups his chin, forcing him to meet his eyes.

‘I told you.’

‘You’re beautiful, Doyoung.’ Jaehyun says seriously, discontent with the hesitation in Doyoung’s dark eyes. ‘You’re a grumpy, irritable wreck but you’re so fucking magnetic I can’t look away from you.’

His lips crash against Doyoung’s once more, finds the lube with Doyoung’s flustered directions and then Jaehyun is opening Doyoung up, relishing the unabashed pleasure over Doyoung’s face as he pants heavily, hands fisted into the bed sheets and almost in tears.

‘Doyoung? Ready?’

Doyoung throws his head back as Jaehyun curls his fingers up before pulling away in seconds, leaving him horribly empty. ‘Oh, god, hurry,’ Doyoung begs. ‘Just-’

‘Like this.’

Jaehyun flips them again. Doyoung atop him once more, stroking their lengths together as Jaehyun rolls on the condom before pulling Doyoung into a strangely chaste kiss considering the circumstances.

‘I want to look up at your face.’

With a cry, Doyoung sinks down on him, tears running down his cheeks as he gasps and writhes, circling his hips down as he adjusts to Jaehyun inside of him. He pulls Jaehyun to him as they move together, breathing in unison, digging his nails in too sharply but unable to stop when Jaehyun utters a low moan in response to the infliction of pain.

‘Beautiful, Doyoung- ah- you’re so fucking beautiful, so good for me.’

Doyoung lets out a whine at this, and Jaehyun moves his hands to Doyoung’s now shaking thighs. Sensing Doyoung tiring out, he grabs him firmly and takes over, thrusting upward as Doyoung bounces up and down, pretty pink mouth slack with pleasure.

Doyoung grows louder, moans turning to high pitched gasps, rising in volume until Jaehyun’s hand snakes up his neck and up to his mouth, stifling Doyoung’s cries. ‘Don’t wanna wake them up, do you?’ Jaehyun asks teasingly, and then his hips stutter up harder, faster, and Doyoung is coming apart in Jaehyun’s hands until he collapses in Jaehyun’s arms, shuddering against him.

Jaehyun thumbs away the tears hanging like diamonds along Doyoung’s lower lash line, a hint of a smile dancing over his lips. ‘So good for me, so good…’

And then Doyoung passes out against his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gna be introducing different characters in each chapter but dojae are the main pairing and storyline, just pointing out


	3. seo corp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> july 29 begins to return in pieces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi yes im so sorry i had a lot going on but here's an update sorry it is So Late

Taeyong’s home is one of the nicest Jaehyun has been in for some time.

It’s pristine marble floors and high ceilings, crystal chandeliers and priceless paintings that Jaehyun knows at a single glance are absolutely unaffordable on the salary of a detective, no matter how high up in the ranks Taeyong is (which seems to be rather high). Taeyong is married, Doyoung had told him offhandedly on the way over, and it’s his husband’s cars they ride in every time they leave the house. So the husband had money, somehow.

Doyoung’s watching him now, wide black eyes halfway between concerned and irritated, which usually indicates that Jaehyun is spacing out.

‘Did you hear me?’

‘No,’ Jaehyun answers honestly, but there’s a mix of affection along with the detective’s sigh and eye roll that’s become increasingly more frequent.

Not that they’ve slept together since the night Jaehyun moved in: almost a week, to be precise. Unfortunately, detectives seemed to have a far heavier load than Jaehyun had anticipated, which maybe wasn’t that large, but to Jaehyun’s own … free range … schedule, it was certainly something.

Aside from playing house with Doyoung, Jaehyun particularly delighted in bonding with Kun and Sicheng. Hell, he’d even learned some Mandarin amidst cooking lessons- from Kun, not Sicheng (Sicheng mostly busied himself with thinking up jokes when he wasn’t breaking things). And it wasn’t like Jaehyun was a bad cook, but Kun is another level.

Jaehyun still sleeps in Doyoung’s bed each night, whether Doyoung comes home early or not. There’s something childish about Jaehyun’s innate desire to rile Doyoung up at even the worst times, which he’s still considering now until Taeyong claps his hands behind them.

‘This way, Doyoung,’ Taeyong gestures to the hall. He frowns at Jaehyun. ‘Can he be trust-‘

‘He’ll be fine,’ Doyoung says, already following Taeyong. He turns around in the hall and gives Jaehyun a Look. ‘Won’t he?’

Jaehyun allows them just four minutes alone before he creeps along the plush white carpet to press his ear to the door. Eavesdropping is not, of course, an attractive trait, but it is one of Jaehyun’s favourite past times. A few seconds pass before he trains his ears to turn from mumbling to articulate speech, and by the time he manages, an unfamiliar voice reaches his ears. 

_‘I still don’t understand why you didn’t just throw him under the bus and get this shit out of the way.’_

Taeyong’s voice floats through the door, _‘baby, it’s easier to conceal him as a suspect, I promise.’_

_‘If I didn’t do what I did, the pattern would only lead to other units being brought in to investigate,’_ Doyoung says firmly. ‘ _If anything went awry, it would implicate everyone instead. We have your swing as a CEO and our sway in the NIS, but if we start punching above our weight in an operation as fragile as this it’s as good as setting our own trap.’_

The concealed suspect in question pulls away from the door and rubs at his ear, which is definitely red. Jaehyun’s ears have always been remarkably sensitive for no good reason. He follows Taeyong’s instructions to the bathroom and stares into mirror above the sink, staring at the single mark on the otherwise spotless reflection to process everything he overheard.

He splashes water over his face and ducks into the hall. The lounge room is down the far left, but the tip of Jaehyun’s ear still feels weirdly _folded_ from where he’d pressed against the panelling to spy on the detectives so he options for the opening into the dining area instead.

Bad choice. There’s a man in the kitchen now, exiting the massive walk-in pantry with his arms piled high with ingredients for what looks to be a cake.

Honestly, Jaehyun could go for a cake right now.

Before Jaehyun thinks of something logical like not peeking out from the hallway, the man spots him, and while Jaehyun briefly considers slaughtering everyone in the house in one hit and running for the hills, a memory sparks in his mind.

_July 29, five p.m.- the temperature cool, yet the sun slowly broiling Jaehyun underneath his long black parka. He’d removed his beanie, tucked it into his pocket while tugging the parka’s hood down over his face. Busy street, obviously, ending office hours brought everybody out of the woodwork. Plenty of cars driving down one of the busiest sections of Seoul, and Jaehyun needed no more than a glance to note which ones were simply Uber and which ones were carrying Somebodies._

_It’s the sleek black car that had caught Jaehyun’s attention- or, more importantly, the giant man in the charcoal grey suit stepping out of it, glancing at the large silver watch on his left wrist while speaking fiercely into an unseen earpiece as he stared at the sixty floor-high Nam Enterprises building across the street._

Eight hours and twenty-three minutes later, Nam Sungjin had been flung to his death from the fifty-ninth floor.

The man must see some flicker of _something_ in Jaehyun’s eyes, because in a matter of seconds he launches himself round the counter to wrench an arm tightly round Jaehyun’s bicep.

‘Anything stupid and you won’t make it out the front door.’

Perhaps Jaehyun’s blood would curdle if he hadn’t delivered the line many times himself. He smiles pleasantly. ‘Yessir.’ He tilts his head, assessing the man. ‘So you must be…’

‘My husband.’

Taeyong’s voice is clipped as it echoes through the kitchen, the thundercloud on his face somehow amplified ten times worse on Doyoung behind him.

In seconds, the large man’s threatening demeanour shifts into something Jaehyun can only liken to that of an overjoyed puppy, and something about the way Taeyong becomes enfolded so entirely in his arms lessens any trace of the imposing detective Jaehyun first met.

‘Hey, Johnny,’ Taeyong mumbles, and his eyes shine up at his husband. Without breaking away, he nods to Jaehyun. ‘Jung Jaehyun, Johnny Seo.’

‘Seo…’

_Seo Corp._ flashes in Jaehyun’s mind- he doesn’t know much about it, other than that the CEO is a bigshot American.

‘Yes, that Seo,’ grins Johnny. He extends a hand along with this new friendliness, which Jaehyun takes with ease. ‘Always nice to put names to faces… faces to names.’

Johnny smiles again, heedless of the detectives’ twin stony expressions, and walks back behind the kitchen counter where he proceeds to measure out a cup of flour. Taeyong joins him, and they spend the rest of the afternoon discussing bad writing in kdramas as they finish off pink-frosted cupcakes in an unsettlingly domestic fashion.

It’s when Doyoung shakes him at four p.m. to go home that a second memory from July 29 hits Jaehyun like an A-grade hangover: _city lights, wide-blown eyes looking down on him, shattered glass, a strong gust of wind and then, the scent of Tom Ford cologne_ … then, nothing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope u all liked itttt
> 
> if u have time maybe check out my ongoing nct and wayv last airbender fic .... ily all comments and kudos are so appreciated <3333


	4. the hacker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> following a viewing of the teletubbies, jaehyun weasels his way into a shitshow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao the pandemic has sent my life to shit im . so fkn sorry for this update rate

Within minutes of meeting him, Jaehyun decided Kim Jungwoo to be the biggest case of whiplash he’d ever encountered: one minute he was soft and sweet and the next cursing everything under the sun without raising his voice at all. Doyoung introduced Jungwoo as both a friend and colleague, although Jungwoo’s role within the NIS is in I.T- Doyoung declared him an expert, in fact- he works closely with the detectives, and is also close with Taeyong.

Jungwoo’s son, Chenle, had been crying since they entered the apartment, writhing and squealing in his bassinet while Doyoung and Jungwoo went over the events of July 29 once more. Jaehyun isn’t sure whether it’s Chenle’s howling or simply the block in his brain keeping him from focusing. Regardless, he keeps the little he does know as vague as possible: Johnny becomes a faceless man, Nam Enterprises is just a regular building… and he makes no mention of his first night in Taeil’s club at all.

In short, Jaehyun maintains that he holds absolutely no record of anything post 5:30 pm on July 29. He can tell by the way Doyoung looks at him that the detective believes him to be lying, though he can’t figure why. In their first meeting back in the cells just less than two weeks earlier, Doyoung had told Jaehyun that he _knew_ Jaehyun didn’t kill Senator Nam.

So why attempt to dredge up memories for a supposedly worthless night on Jaehyun’s end? The video Doyoung presented to procure bail surely sufficed, did it not?

Jaehyun’s mind is in shambles. There is nothing he can think of that rationalises anything going on, let alone pinpoint how on earth Doyoung managed to convince himself or anyone else that Jaehyun could help him solve the senator’s murder, although Doyoung told him just yesterday that his unit has in fact made progress in the investigation. So that was something.

‘Calm that thing down before I lose my mind.’

While Jaehyun ponders Jungwoo’s referral to his son as ‘that thing’, a tall man with bright eyes wearing pyjamas exits the hallway and half limps over to lift Chenle from the bassinet. Jaehyun’s eyes linger on the transtibial prosthetic leg easily visible below blue-striped shorts. From the way the man walks, Jaehyun puts the injury somewhere between one to two years old.

‘There’s a glass of water for you in your office, baby,’ the man tells Jungwoo, carefully cradling the small baby against his chest. He comes to stand beside Jungwoo, kissing his cheek gently, and smiles from ear to ear when his gaze lands on Jaehyun. ‘I’m Jungwoo’s husband, Yukhei. Nice to meet you.’

Jaehyun returns the smile with equal radiance, liking Yukhei immediately. ‘I’m Jaehyun.’

Yukhei’s smile becomes brighter. ‘Lovely!’ He drops a kiss on Chenle’s head and nods at Jungwoo. ‘I’ll start dinner. Are you two staying to eat?’

‘No, but thank you, Yukhei,’ Doyoung’s tone is kinder than usual, probably due to an inability to be rude in any capacity to the friendly giant. He grins, noticing Jungwoo glaring at a now peaceful Chenle. ‘Jungwoo appears to be considering cooking the baby for dinner.’

‘I love my son!’ Jungwoo protests. ‘I’m just… stressed. As soon as we get everything cleared up we can play the wildest game of monopoly he’s ever played in his life.’

‘It’s okay to admit Yukhei is better with kids, Woo,’ Doyoung voices aloud, amidst Jaehyun’s internal considerations of exactly how a one year old would fare in monopoly.

Jungwoo hisses. ‘Let’s just get to work, okay?’

‘I’m beyond bored,’ Jaehyun announces after an hour’s worth of almost completely ignoring Doyoung and Jungwoo in favour of watching the Teletubbies beside Chenle’s bassinet. Whenever he did tune in, Taeyong’s tinny voice rattling irritably through the crackled line seemed to be going round in circles about events Jaehyun had no idea could conceivably be connected to the Senator’s murder.

Yukhei, taking away the now empty plate of cookies intended for the three of them (that Jaehyun had almost singlehandedly consumed alone), stops short as Jaehyun’s catches hold of his arm.

‘Where’s your bathroom?’

‘Third door to the left, down the hall’, Yukhei answers with a smile, waiting for Jaehyun to let go before returning to the kitchen.

Pushing his table back from the dining table, Jaehyun leaves without so much as a peep from Doyoung and Jungwoo, then moves to the hall as quickly as he can without arousing suspicion. The first door is Jungwoo’s office, and after a peek over his shoulder, Jaehyun ducks inside. Of the three computers, one is still open in his email account.

_Thank you, Jungwoo_. Jaehyun slides into Jungwoo’s large leather chair with a smile that quickly turns into a frown as he assesses the complex software onscreen. He opens the downloads and documents tabs. Nothing is labelled according to anything Jaehyun immediately understands- something he should’ve expected of a government agent, nonetheless it is an annoyance- but rather coded in dates, some interspersed with characters and symbols. He purses his lips and proceeds to click mindlessly on a few, most of which open, save one that requests a passcode to access. All he needs is one file- _something_ on this case to let Jaehyun in on what the fuck is going on in this abomination of a police investigation because god knows Doyoung isn’t telling him everything.

‘Fuck,’ Jaehyun mutters aloud, quite certain that Doyoung’s unit has to be the most useless set of cops he’s ever encountered. Any longer than three minutes and Doyoung would come bursting in. he needed to _think_ \- 

**_200404_**.

Jaehyun clicks on it immediately. The file is short: April fourth, Sun & Moon club, Kim Jiwoo- the picture attached belonging to the man whose eye Jaehyun drove Haechan’s heel into. And below the picture, _J77_.

Jaehyun’s codename.

He opens four more files, three of them being his own past hits. When he reaches the fifth file, it isn’t the date of July 29 that shocks him as badly as the sight of _J77_ accompanying the over-saturated photo of Nam Sungjin’s pudgy, unimpressed face.

‘Shit’.

Confirmation that at the very least… Jaehyun was intended to be present the night of the Senator’s murder.

He trudges on. **_190327_** : A higher up from the NIS, whom Jaehyun had recognised as the man with over twenty allegations of sexual assault against him before Jaehyun staged his shame-induced suicide into the Han River. **_190712_** : a drug deal gone wrong- honestly, Jaehyun had probably gone a little overboard on the cocaine that evening, but the powder explosion made for a fantastic media story and the police hadn’t pursued it much further. And so on, and so on.

It’s when Jaehyun exits the file, closes the documents to return to the email account that Jaehyun realises it: every email in and out of the account has been sent from the same five accounts.

_KDY, LTY, JS, MTI, NYT._

And with a quick overview of the first emails sent from KDY, Jaehyun deduces each of the people involved have connections to Jaehyun’s hits from the past two years… all orders paid by the same anonymous account that had been funding the greater part of Jaehyun’s spending money the entire time.

A meticulous kill list.

Headed by none other than Jaehyun’s roommate and indemnitor, Detective Kim Doyoung.

Still reeling, Jaehyun mulls over the other names. Other than the three detectives, Jaehyun recognises the initials of Taeyong’s husband Johnny and the club owner, Moon Taeil. Only the last initials were unaccounted for, though it doesn’t surprise Jaehyun in the least that they do not match those of Jungwoo’s husband’s name.

Yukhei- in the least patronising way possible- seems simply too sweet to be involved with the organising of a hitman, while his soft spoken, hard ass I.T. based husband whom Jaehyun believes to be more of a hacker than anything else quite fits the profile. There was something different about him, something innocent that kept him apart from his husband and the detectives, and Taeyong’s CEO husband.

_Did Yukhei even know?_

A bark of laughter from just outside the hall brings Jaehyun back to his senses, and he decides to abandon wondering about the secrets within Jungwoo and Yukhei’s marriage in favour of hastily restoring the computer to the way he found it. He swings the chair round and leaves the door slightly ajar as he found it, before ducking down to the bathroom to flush the toilet and wash his hands.

When he finally returns, Doyoung barely raises an eyebrow while Jaehyun shakes water droplets carelessly from his hands. ‘Took you long enough.’

Jaehyun wriggles his brows cheekily. ‘Business to attend to.’

Doyoung gasps with disgust as Yukhei’s hands jerk up to cover his laughter. Beside them, Jungwoo turns vaguely green at the implication.

His present situation only made stirring the detectives up all the more fun.

‘If you can remove that thought from your minds, we will leave you to enjoy your meal,’ Doyoung rolls his eyes, grabbing Jaehyun’s upper arm to jerk him towards the front door. Yukhei’s bubbling laughter follows them out of the apartment and down the stairs, and from the corner of his eye, Jaehyun can see Doyoung, as always, doing his best to hold in his own laughter, once again at ease.

Doyoung was right that day in the prison. Jaehyun can hide in plain sight with no difficulty at all, can slit a man’s throat without so much as a blink: Jaehyun is, in his own highly esteemed opinion, the best assassin in East Asia. Maybe more. And for this reason, Doyoung has effectively leased out Jaehyun to take targets out for over the course of two years.

Jaehyun is a killer. He’s a hitman whose codename is attached to a list of his own victims and who was present within Nam Enterprises the night of the senator’s death. And despite this, Jaehyun is dead certain he isn’t responsible for Senator Nam’s fall.

Now he wonders: what it is they both don’t know that is important enough to keep Doyoung from flinging Jaehyun in a cell right this second?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think just two more chapters at this point eeeeee 
> 
> pls comment or drop kudos if u enjoyed <33333


	5. hello kitty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nakamoto yuta is an interesting mechanic, if u ask me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mind the rating as always ,,, this one's a lil saucy

When Doyoung told Jaehyun to come with him to the mechanic’s, the last thing he’d expected was to walk in on a pink-haired young man with strawberry hair clips and a backpack still on getting absolutely _railed_ up against the service desk.

But who was he to judge?

The strangled ‘ _arrrgh’_ from Doyoung tells Jaehyun the detective is more than used to this sight, disgusted without stopping in his tracks. A man with silver-toned purple hair, a bandana falling over his brow and earrings studded along both his ears stands up properly behind the pink-haired one, shooting a shameless grin at Doyoung as he pulls away and proceeds to wipe his hands on a grease-stained towel lain on the desk.

‘For god’s sake, Yuta, do you ever get any work done?’ Doyoung yelps, shielding his eyes as Yuta fixes himself up, then begins adjusting the pink-haired man’s clothes, the latter still breathing heavily with exertion. Jaehyun just stares. ‘And Mark, what’s the point of enrolling in university if you don’t even attend classes?’

‘I already went in today,’ Mark pouts. He spins around to showcase the Hello Kitty backpack strapped over his shoulders. ‘An eight a.m. lecture mind you. I’d like to see you sit through the pretentious bullshit my classmates carry on about. I just want to paint pretty watercolours.’

‘He’s better than his classmates at everything already.’ Yuta kisses away his boyfriend’s frown and drops into the wheeled chair behind his desk, letting out an ‘ _oof’_ as Mark drops into his lap with no hesitation. Mark hits his chest gently in retaliation.

Jaehyun fixes on the tool lying on the desk, half-hidden by the cloth Yuta used to clean himself off: a drill lying on its side… with dark blood slick and winding up along the steel spiral.

Yuta. _NYT_ \- the final initials in the emails on Jungwoo’s computer that were previously unaccountable for. _Yuta_. Jaehyun doesn’t need a surname to be sure of that. Without a glance in Jaehyun’s direction, Mark’s hand suddenly darts forward to flip the cloth completely over the tool.

Before silence descends over them, there comes a loud yet muffled thump from the wall behind Yuta’s desk. Mark giggles, then covers his mouth quickly. Yuta’s fingers dig into his waist.

Jaehyun raises a brow. ‘What was that?’

‘A gasket,’ Yuta answers easily.

‘So, to be clear, you’re a mechanic?’

‘Of sorts,’ Yuta amends, teeth flashing brilliantly under the blinding fluorescent beams still swinging from the ceiling. He waves his hand dismissively and turns his attention to Doyoung. ‘What are _you_ after, my dear _Mr. Kim_?’

Doyoung’s nose twitches at the obvious sarcasm. ‘I was wondering if you had made any headway with my… car.’

Mark giggles again.

‘If you’d been patient and waited till I was _finished_ you would have received a call. I think it’s a lost cause.’

Jaehyun smirks at the innuendo, and Yuta smiles satisfactorily, unbothered by Doyoung’s steely gaze.

‘I’d rather have one last crack at it before discarding. Perhaps it just requires the right mechanic.’

Yuta rolls his eyes. ‘Be my guest,’ he says, idly gesturing to the door behind him. He draws Mark further onto his lap, playing with the strawberry clips in the younger man’s hair. Doyoung crosses the room, swiftly shutting the door behind him as Yuta calls out, ‘I guess we’ll babysit your plaything!’

‘I suppose Doyoung has some mechanical skills I’m not aware of?’

Mark looks at Jaehyun dumbly. ‘Why would-’

‘Mr. Kim is a very multi-talented human being,’ Yuta interrupts, a hand sliding over Mark’s mouth. Mark doesn’t fight it, just sinks back to lean his head into the crook of Yuta’s neck. ‘He knows it’s a bust. Doyoung is relentless like that. He’ll be damned if he doesn’t squeeze every last drop before throwing anything away.’

_Sounds about right_ , Jaehyun agrees internally. He frowns. Since leaving Jungwoo and Yukhei’s place yesterday, Doyoung hadn’t left him alone for anything but bathroom visits and showers. The detective had been in a shockingly good mood all evening and all morning- though Yuta and Mark’s antics may have stunned him out of it, Jaehyun isn’t sure yet. They had watched _Lilo and Stitch_ in the living room with Kun and Sicheng, and after all Jaehyun’s efforts to rile Doyoung up the only thing the detective had done was drift to sleep on his shoulder.

And Sicheng and Kun had left Jaehyun to carry him up to bed, of course.

It’s not that Jaehyun can’t survive without sex- he’s had targets that have required extensive isolation and solo travel in the past- but this is different. Doyoung is intoxicating, and worse, pressed up against Jaehyun every time they fall asleep. Jaehyun has never had issues with addiction before, but this strange new _craving_ for Doyoung is fucking hard to grapple with.

‘So, what do you do for a living?’ Mark breaks the quiet sweetly, but Jaehyun isn’t sure whether it’s the glint in Yuta’s eye or Mark’s hand so carelessly close to the bloody drill on the desk that tells Jaehyun there’s a lot more than meets the eye to the wide-eyed boy with strawberry clips in his hair.

‘Oh, just this and that,’ Jaehyun says coolly. Yuta arches a brow sharply at the response, smile dark- a hint of praise almost, as if proud of Jaehyun’s unshaken demeanor.

‘Sounds like a blast.’

Jaehyun’s lips tug upward. ‘Sometimes it is.’

Mark’s eyes flicker with interest. He opens his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by a loud creak as Doyoung slips back into the room. The detective straightens his tie and pats his blazer down, but seems unruffled for the most part.

‘It’s unfortunate, but I think it’s past its use now.’ Doyoung’s expression is unreadable as he addresses Yuta, but Jaehyun’s attention is drawn to the detective’s disconnected tone, its finality. Whatever- or rather, whoever- is behind the door, likely has little time left.

Judging by the blood-stained drill, perhaps that is something of a blessing for whoever lies in the room beyond. The use of the tool feels deliberately messy. Jaehyun can get around that. Personally, he usually prefers a cleaner kill if he has to clean up afterwards, but Yuta might not be concerned over such matters. Jaehyun highly doubts Mark would agree to dirty his hands to that extent, though he could be wrong.

‘Told you so,’ Mark sing-songs, now sitting bolt upright, his chin tucked onto Yuta’s shoulder with his arms slung round the Japanese man’s neck. He meets Doyoung’s glare with a nose scrunch, tilting his head cutely to the side.

Doyoung’s eyes roll skyward. ‘Just deal with it. We’ll be off now.’

Without thinking, the detective takes hold of Jaehyun’s hand and begins marching to the exit. His shoulders are visibly tense, even with his blazer on, and Jaehyun tries to keep from giggling aloud as he contemplates seducing Doyoung into receiving an oil-massage back home. Sicheng and Kun would whole-heartedly support the idea (equally for teasing the shit out of their roommate as wanting Doyoung to relax).

‘Bring Jaehyun again!’ Mark’s voice echoes through the shed. ‘I like him!’

Doyoung stops in his tracks, turning to face Mark, and as he does so he drops Jaehyun’s hand lightning quick. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Mark. Go… study or something.’

‘We’ll probably just have sex again,’ Yuta tells him honestly, prompting Mark to erupt into giggles.

‘That could be us but you’re uptight,’ Jaehyun murmurs, only for Doyoung to hear.

Doyoung’s entire face flushes crimson. For a moment, he stares at Jaehyun, frozen until Yuta picks up Mark and sits him on the desk, slapping the wood loudly.

‘You have ten seconds to get out, or-’

They made it out in just five.

The drive back to Doyoung’s apartment is in total silence.

Jaehyun ponders the possible reasons for the sudden quiet. Of course, the detective’s mood had dimmed upon walking in on Yuta fucking Mark against the table- and really, Jaehyun couldn’t fault him for that- and he hadn’t seemed particularly enthralled by whatever went on behind the mysterious door inside the shed. Despite this, something feels off, almost performative. As if Doyoung is purposely-

_Is he?_ Jaehyun side-eyes him carefully at first, then gives up upon seeing Doyoung half-turned to look out the window. He pouts and turns away, meeting the driver’s eye in the rear-view mirror.

_I think he’s avoiding me on purpose_ , Jaehyun mouths, jabbing his thumb at Doyoung to drive the point home.

The driver rolls his eyes.

‘Why does everybody hate me,’ Jaehyun grumbles under his breath. More importantly, why does he care? He should just leave, find somewhere else to be and get back to work. Following a cop around had not been as interesting as Jaehyun had hoped. Maybe Paris _isn’t_ such a bad-

The car pulls to a stop outside Doyoung’s apartment. Wordlessly, Doyoung nods to the driver and exits the vehicle, long legs carrying him quickly up the steps before he disappears inside.

‘He-’

‘Please get out.’

Jaehyun sighs.

More silence greets him inside, with Kun at work and Sicheng at his dance academy until five p.m. He trudges upstairs, tugging his thick woolen turtleneck over his head as the apartment’s heating system kicks in, and comes to a halt at the edge of Doyoung’s bed.

‘Doie?’

‘I’m here.’

The detective gives Jaehyun no time to react before he pushes Jaehyun down onto the bed, winding a firm arm round Jaehyun’s waist as he begins to drop barely-there kisses along the side of Jaehyun’s neck. Doyoung laughs quietly when Jaehyun sighs contentedly. If Doyoung had stronger self-discipline, he’d prolong the assassin’s teasing out a little longer, let Jaehyun rile him up until Doyoung was wound up beyond stopping.

As it is, Doyoung is uncertain of how much time they have left together. So he enjoys this, pressing his body along Jaehyun’s back as he tongues the shell of Jaehyun’s ear, enjoying the way Jaehyun involuntarily flushes, the way the hairs on the back of his neck stand tall.

He allows the younger man room to flip himself over, biting his lip as Jaehyun watches him, in a daze with the beginning of a dreamy smile crossing his lips as he helps Doyoung shed his clothes, and then his own. Jaehyun maintains eye contact for as long as he can, breath quickening with every kiss Doyoung sears into his skin, lower and lower and lower.

‘I was beginning to think you were done with me.’

‘Oh, Jaehyun,’ Doyoung chuckles, relishing the gasp of surprise as Jaehyun realises he isn’t stopping to give him a blowjob, ‘you’ll know when I’m done with you, love.’

Jaehyun’s mind barely has time to process the pet name when his entire body flexes in shock, startled into silence as Doyoung buries his face against him.

‘ _I thought I was the uptight one_ ,’ Doyoung murmurs, and by the time he licks into him for the first time, Jaehyun is already unable to keep from screaming.

As Jaehyun continues to thrash against Doyoung’s cool silken sheets, his subconscious mind fights against physical pleasure, begging Jaehyun to address every question, every underlying fear of what is to come, what has already happened that lies hidden in the fog of Jaehyun’s lost memories of July 29th. It would be so easy to kill Doyoung, right here, right now. So easy to snap his long, swanlike neck, to draw one of the embroidered blue pillows from beside him and hold the detective down until he breathes no longer.

But Jaehyun can’t- no, he doesn’t want to. A strange, strong desire to keep Doyoung by his side keeps Jaehyun from his usual infallible logic, keeps him desperate to beat the detective to the missing puzzle piece. He needs a trump card; when they reach the end, cards on the table, Jaehyun cannot lose.

A panel of afternoon sunlight cuts a line through Doyoung as the detective comes up for air, his left eye burning gold just for a moment before he dives back between Jaehyun’s shuddering thighs.

_Whoever you are, Kim Doyoung, I don’t think I can promise to set you free when the time comes._

Jaehyun grits his teeth and twists his fingers sharply into fistfuls of Doyoung’s black hair, letting Doyoung’s responsive high moan draw him back to the present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiii hehe i enjoyed mark and yuta's dynamics in this ;;; 
> 
> leave me kudos or a comment if u enjoyed this chapter it rly motivates me to write and update faster eeeee <3333


	6. motive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> plans align ; jaehyun forces himself to remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah this took forever stressful end of uni semester yadadyadayada pls forgive me ok here u go

7:30 a.m

________

The doorbell rings out just loud enough for Jungwoo to hear as he slips his blazer on, followed by three sharp raps against wood that cause Jungwoo to flinch. He wrinkles his nose, unsure of who on earth would possibly be needing them at such an hour. If Taeyong hadn’t already texted to ask for both Jungwoo and Doyoung to come in to the office earlier this morning, he’d expect either of those two.

Slinging his brief case over his shoulder, Jungwoo stalks down the hall just as Yukhei opens the front door with little Chenle resting on his hip.

Upon sighting the visitors, Jungwoo’s heart plummets.

‘Can I help you?’ Yukhei offers kindly, allowing Chenle to wrap his small fingers round his thumb to keep him calm. His eyes roam over the men’s uniforms and he makes a noise of understanding. ‘Ah, officers, you must be here for my husband. Jungwoo!’

As soon as the words leave his mouth, confusion passes over the officers’ faces.

Jungwoo stands rooted to his spot paces behind his husband as the first man announces:

‘Wong Yukhei, you’re under arrest.’ 

Chenle screams.

*

Jaehyun stirs to the distinctive hiss of an angry Jungwoo echoing from Doyoung’s cell phone. Keeping half of his face buried into the cool fabric of his pillow, he cracks one eye open, straining past bleariness to blink Doyoung from a blurry outline into his usual, admittedly very handsome self, though for once his default pinch of annoyance has been replaced by something of self-assurance.

_‘You promised you would not bring Yukhei into this! If he isn’t home for dinner… fuck a hitman I’ll take you out myself!’_

‘Do be quiet,’ Doyoung says mildly in response to his coworker’s threats, buttoning up his shirt with the phone nestled between his jaw and shoulder. ‘Everything is sorted.’

10:30 a.m

________

By mid-morning, the headlines of online reports, newspapers and tabloids alike splash with insider information following new developments in the case of Senator Nam’s murder.

_Senator Nam’s death not as unexpected as it was thought to be: extensive evidence points to an unseemly life frequented by immoral and illegal acts which brought the man to his ill-fated demise._

_CEO Johnny Seo of Seo Corporation to testify in court with information proving illegal business deals implicating the late Senator Nam._

_COO Moon Taeil to testify in accordance to CEO Johnny Seo as a subsidiary of Seo Corp.; both the CEO and COO deny involvement with the multiple recordings of Senator Nam’s illegal activity in club Sun & Moon. _

Not long after, the damning video footage of Senator Nam in a cloud of alcohol, hard drugs, dirty money, prostitutes and a golden stripper dancing round him is leaked, becoming viral on every social media platform.

At the National Intelligence Service building, Doyoung arrives to find Taeyong and Jungwoo already seated inside his office, faces alight with humorous satisfaction upon spotting him. Doyoung allows himself to bask in their unchecked admiration just this once.

‘Smart maneuvering,’ Taeyong marvels, shaking his head with disbelief. Beside him, Jungwoo pouts.

‘I don’t care if you get Taeyong’s _corrupt_ husband involved, but _my Yukhei_? Really, Doyoung?’

Doyoung laughs. ‘He’ll be home for dinner.’

2 p.m.

________

One of Jaehyun’s many talents- perhaps his best- is his ability to move without drawing attention. Though Nam Enterprises is far from empty at 2 p.m. on a weekday, Jaehyun found the milling building far easier to slip through than otherwise.

Clad in his usual plain black hoodie and loose pants, Jaehyun walks with his head down all the way to the janitor’s quarters, past the lobby and offices on the ground floor. No one pays him any attention, and after rustling through several lockers he finds a suitable fit of navy coveralls, and as an afterthought, grabs a trolley full with cleaning products for a prop.

In the corner of the elevator, nobody pays him any attention on his way up the fifty-nine floors. Most workers had their heads buried in files or phones, too busy to notice the help, to be concerned by his travel to the second-highest floor.

And even then, why should a cleaner not be involved in cleaning up the mess of their dead boss’ office that no one else wanted to deal with?

Jaehyun pushes the cart off the elevator, not bothering to be careful with it. His gaze darts round the untouched rooms, settling on the orange security tape loosely set up round the shattered window. Jaehyun’s teeth chatter, not wholly prepared for the cold. He’d expected repairing the window to be something of a priority in such a high scale office. Perhaps not.

To his right is a long, black leather couch. Jaehyun frowns, walking toward it. Familiar, he thinks, running his hand over it. Instinctively, he lies down, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

Minutes pass with nothing to result, and Jaehyun finds himself growing antsy. He needs answers, and Doyoung sue as fuck isn’t handing any out.

‘Come on, Jae, you useless prick. _Think_ , fuck! Think!’

And thirty minutes later, half asleep and wind like ice on his cheeks, Jaehyun freefalls into the night of July 29.

_‘J77, fucking answer me.’_

_Jaehyun raises his head slowly, hardly able to move, hardly wanting to. This lounge is comfortable; Jaehyun always had a penchant for leather. He almost laughs at the irritated tone, but the furious expression on the man’s face stops him in his tracks. He scans the man instead: black hair falling into frantic eyes that dart around behind silver frames, a thin, long-legged frame clothed in a neatly pressed navy pinstripe suit that isn’t exactly Jaehyun’s style but the man is handsome, enough that Jaehyun decides to forget about the suit._

_He bites his lip as he peers over the couch top. All this time, his mysterious employer… was hot? Just his luck._

_‘J77, I’ll have your ass for this,’ the man hisses into the phone after redialing. ‘It’s been five hours, where the hell are you? I told you to update me the minute you disposed of the senator- you better not have used that gun-’_

_‘Gun?’_

_An office door creaks open, revealing the pudgy, yellow-toothed man Jaehyun recognises from his assignment form._

_Senator Nam. Jaehyun almost giggles, tries to, but finds his body is unable to move. He blinks slowly, determined to keep an eye on the unfolding situation. His employer stammers, and Jaehyun feels briefly apologetic as for not having done the job already, though the pressing matter of being able to fucking move feels a little more important. As the two men begin to talk, Jaehyun begins to move his arms and legs slowly in circles in an attempt to get back to normal._

_The senator’s eyes are beady, fixed on Jaehyun’s nameless employer. A nasty grin overcomes his squashed in face, and he claps his hands. ‘Mr. Kim! Doyoung Kim. You were, if I recall correctly, a friend of Johnny Seo’s.’_

_Doyoung makes no reply, though his fist clenching and unclenching at his side tells Jaehyun he isn’t prepared at all for this conversation._

_If Jaehyun wasn’t so focused on his own circumstances, he might feel guilty._

_‘I assume this is all on behalf of Johnny Seo, though how you’ve tricked yourself into believing he is any less ‘corrupt’ than me, I have no idea. I have far more power than him, you as a member of the NIS should know that._

_‘Johnny’s a friend,’ Doyoung says stiffly. He is almost perfectly still, save for his nose that twitches once, twice under Jaehyun’s gaze. His eyes are bright, focused, sharp. Too sharp for an enemy as pig-headed as Senator Nam._

_‘We could have cut something of a deal, Mr. Kim.’ The senator spreads his hands as if helpless, relishing the clench of Doyoung’s jaw. ‘Alas, it was not to be. You will be out of a job by morning, and as for Johnny Seo and his precious husband-’_

_The click of a gun cuts through his words._

_Senator Nam cracks up. From his couch, Jaehyun feels inclined to do the same._

_Doyoung? The scrawny NIS officer? His employer who evidently didn’t like to get his hands dirty?_

_But with the Senator so close, with his job on the line- and Jaehyun not having followed through on orders- Kim Doyoung is cornered._

_‘You won’t shoot me,’ the senator laughs, ‘you-’_

_A gunshot rings out._

_It buries into the glass amidst Senator Nam’s ongoing laughter, the man’s eyes screwed up as a web of cracks spread outward in seconds._

_‘If you’d been smart, you would have made a deal with me,’ Doyoung hisses, then raising his leg, slams into the senator’s chest, shattering the window completely._

_Too shocked to call for help, the senator’s arms begin to windmill, the next seconds feeling like slow motion to Jaehyun as Doyoung leaps away from the crumbling glass._

_Then, Senator Nam is gone._

_Police sirens whirring below and fierce wind bringing him to his senses, something sparks in Jaehyun, pushing him to dive over the couch to the elevator closest to him. As the doors close, the shocked face of Kim Doyoung stares back at him, paled by moonlight._

6 p.m.

________

At exactly 6 p.m., the Seoul police receive a phone call.

After coaxing the caller into calming down, officers managed to ascertain what all the commotion is about.

Traumatised young university student Mark Lee, who, on his way to his friend’s business Nakamotors, discovered a body beside a dumpster outside a club in downtown Gangnam: a gang member in his mid-thirties with a note in his pocket confessing to the murder of Senator Nam in retaliation for not being paid after keeping quiet about the senator’s illegal activities.

Within the next hour, the media is once again abuzz with new articles. The news no longer paints Senator Nam as an innocent victim; any trace of public sympathy is gone.

The case, paperwork aside, is largely considered closed.

*

‘You have a body, a confession note and now a gun, and you _still_ won’t release my husband? I see this situation for what it is! You petty cops want my job, is that it?’

Taeyong and Doyoung grimace at Jungwoo’s shrill tone. The back and forth between their coworker and the Seoul police officers has been ongoing the past ten minutes since the discovery of the gang member’s dead body, and neither of them have had the energy to interrupt thus far.

‘The body was cut up and torn, there is absolutely no motive for a suicide and we have no clue who would kill after the senator’s death to keep this man quiet. Your husband is a suspect, why would we release him?’

Doyoung’s nose twitches in annoyance. ‘You do realise that doesn’t make any sense? Wong Yukhei is a stay at home dad with zero connections to the senator. It would stand to reason that the second murderer would be a family member or connected to Senator Nam’s business deals. Someone with something to gain even after the senator’s death.’

The head officer of the department, a short, stubby man who seems to be perpetually sweating, frowns at this. ‘Wong Yukhei’s fingerprints are on the gun. How can we ignore that?’

‘And the gun is Jungwoo’s,’ Taeyong interrupts. ‘I don’t see how it’s so out of the ordinary for his own husband to have briefly touched the gun at some point.’

‘So you just didn’t notice your own gun was missing.’

‘I have several guns,’ Jungwoo replies smoothly, patting the one on his hip for good measure. ‘I was not aware that one was missing, but it is entirely plausible that I lost it during that scuffle with the gang in downtown Seoul last week. You know, the fight _I_ had to break up because your _useless_ department didn’t do its job.’

The short officer reddens, then regains some sense of pride to snap, ‘and if it was missing why didn’t you report it? That’s your duty!’

‘If your department had done your job I wouldn’t have been overloaded and frazzled!’ Jungwoo fires back. ‘If you’re so bothered you can write me up for such a simple mistake but mark my words, I will take this further. And from where I’m sitting I have a feeling the ruling will favour a high-up NIS worker….’ Jungwoo shrugs, smiling smugly. He waves his hand carelessly. ‘But you do what you like.’

‘Well, the gun is back now,’ a female officer steps in before the short man can combust. ‘I suppose the present matter is more pressing. With the gun belonging to Kim Jungwoo, where does that leave us in terms of Wong Yukhei’s involvement?’ 

‘The footage the NIS picked up earlier shows a man jumping from the outdoor escalator from the second floor to the ground, with what appears to be a gun in hand, just minutes after the senator’s fall. As you have probably noted by now, Wong Yukhei has a prosthetic leg. He could never make that jump. It is quite a reach to put a murder on a man for simply holding his husband’s gun.’

The officers turn sheepish at Taeyong’s sharp words. Short as he is, the NIS department head is incredibly intimidating when he needs to be.

‘Right. We’ll just… ah…. Get the paperwork done and he can go.’

Not quite twenty minutes later, Wong Yukhei is released into the arms of his husband and child, all in time to make dinner.

10 p.m.

________

Upon entering the lobby of Nam Enterprises, Doyoung’s phone buzzes twice in his blazer pocket. He ignores the sound, clasping his hands together as he walks across the stone flooring deep in thought. There is no reason for him to be here, yet he cannot help but feel that something is telling him to be here- perhaps he missed something? Not likely. Doyoung doesn’t miss things.

More likely: something is off.

Definitely the latter, he reconsiders at the feeling of butterflies in his belly.

Doyoung wracks his brains as his eyes rove over the building’s dark interior. He doesn’t feel entirely alone; car engines and street lights permeate any true darkness on the lower floors for the most part. There is no one around at this hour, not even janitors. It’s an eerie feeling, though Doyoung can’t quite pinpoint the reason for his unease.

_Bzzzzz. Bzzzzz._

‘Ah, now what,’ Doyoung sighs, anticipating a text from Jungwoo yelling at him for no reason, or perhaps Taeyong congratulating him once more. Drawing the phone from his pocket, he looks over the notifications before opening it.

Two from Taeyong, an image attached to one that Doyoung is sure is some form of celebratory cooking. Nothing from Jungwoo, but five texts entirely in caps lock from Sicheng asking for multiple ingredients to be brought home as well as a fire extinguisher, followed by a message from Kun asking Doyoung to disregard all of Sicheng’s. Doyoung snorts, figuring Kun must have cleaned it up himself.

‘Oh.’

At the end of the other notifications is a missed call from Jaehyun, and then a voice message. Frowning, Doyoung clicks on it and brings the phone to his ear, drumming his fingers against the front desk absently as he waits for the recording to start.

It’s short and sweet, as Jaehyun’s usual communications to him are, but lacks the usual bright humour the hit man generally employs. Doyoung plays it once more, blood running cold as Jaehyun’s deep voice delivers his playful words with a strange, almost confused undertone that Doyoung has never heard from him before.

Doyoung stands stock still after the second listen, processing his thoughts. He pockets the phone, a chill spiking the hairs on the back of his neck as Jaehyun’s words ring in his mind.

_It’s a nice view up here, Doie,_ Jaehyun’s recorded voice is muffled slightly, a result of strong wind, followed by a throaty chuckle. _I was a little miffed to discover how much you kept from me. Why didn’t you just tell me… what you knew. What I knew. I suppose you have no reason to trust me, so I can’t blame you… I don’t quite trust you either. And I don’t know what you’ll do now I’ve regained my memory…._

Head spinning, Doyoung dashes for the elevator. He smashes the buttons hastily, biting his nails all the way to the 59th floor, something he hasn’t done since he finished high school. He bursts out of the elevator, breathing heavily as his head snaps back and forth in search of Jaehyun.

_Will you kill me, Doie?_

He is greeted only by the howling wind entering the broken window and the sirens in the city below, and Jaehyun’s last words burning into his brain.

_But I don’t think I want to let you go. I… don’t think I can._

Jaehyun is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one left :D

**Author's Note:**

> honestly i dont want this to be super long- maybe ten chapters max- and it's rated explicit for future violence, gore and sex. the other members of 127 will also be involved!


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